Next doors cat creeps through the long grass of our back garden and makes its way to one of the large bushes. There it settles down to stare at me. I stare back it. Its a strange cat, a throw back to the days when wildcats roamed freely through the ancient woodland that used to cover the hillsides. It has the markings of a wildcat and the facial features to go with them. Not ugly, but not very cuddly either. So it sits beneath our foliage, a sleek muscular moggy, menacing the innocent. The innocent being of course being JC our one remaining cat and Lilly the Collie. Since next doors sabre tooth tiger has taken to coming in to occupy part of our garden JC remains house bound, unwilling to defend her territory. Lilly doesn't like cats and avoids them where ever possible. So its left to Mrs BW or I to shoo them away.
This cat seems to like our garden. So much so that now it has taken to inviting its friends round. Now next doors garden is no good for cats. The grass is too short and the bushes are too neat and tidy and offer little in the way of foliage to lie up in and ambush unsuspecting pets. In fact their lawn resembles a bowling green. To keep it so it requires three cuts a week, regardless of the weather and whether it needs it or not.
So our garden is more attractive to cats. Both Mrs BW and I are firmly in the “Gardens should look natural” school, though I lean more to the wild and unkempt look than she does. Of course as she does most of the gardening she gets to make the structural decisions and I am left to agree with her. The neighbours may not be happy, but at least their cats are. Perhaps they won't shit on our lawn! I mean the cats of course.